


Thieves Like Us

by dracoqueen22



Series: Crown the Empire [1]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers Generation One
Genre: Friendship, Implications of Unhappy Past, M/M, Pre-Soundwave, Pre-War, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-31 21:37:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3993742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the war. Before Soundwave. Before Optimus Prime. There was Rumble, Bumblebee, and a chance encounter that was the kind of stupid drivel born of cheap romance novels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stray

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of ficlets centered around Rumble, Frenzy, and Bumblebee. I'm going to mark it as complete since I'll update only as I get inspired.

It was the kind of stupid drivel that cheap romances were made of. But the first time they met was when they both reached for the last copy of a popular handheld game. 

They tussled over it. Rumble got his hands on it first, but Bumblebee had the better grip. Rumble was accustomed to getting his way and Soundwave wasn't around to enforce politeness back then. But Bumblebee was stubborn and wouldn't let go. 

He fought like a rabid turbofox. He even scratched and bit like one. Rumble walked away with souvenirs and a lot less dignity then he'd arrived with. 

Neither of them left with the game. In the struggle, they'd broken it. And then the shopkeeper chased them out the store as Enforcer sirens whined louder as they got closer. 

Rumble fled. Frenzy would murder him if he had to waste their pay on bail again. 

The yellow fragger tagged along, more desperation and fear in his field than seemed necessary for a little petty property damage. Rumble figured the brat had never been in trouble before. 

Lucky there were plenty of places to hide in the slums. The police came and went, off to find bigger game. 

Rumble was still angry. He'd been looking for that game for decacycles. 

He whirled on his partner in crime, intent on finishing what they'd started, but in the dim light of the shambling warehouse, Bumblebee looked like a scared sparkling. Rumble hesitated. 

“I'm sorry,” Bumblebee squeaked and scrambled away, vanishing into the gloom with a loud clomp of pedes through trash-clogged streets. 

It was too much effort to give chase and why bother? Mech was in a worse state than even than he and Frenzy if the condition of his plating was any indication. 

Rumble gritted his denta, kicked a rusty bucket, and turned back toward home. No point in sticking around. 

That was the first time he saw Bumblebee. He expected it to be the last. Slums like these? Mechs never met each other twice. Survival was the name of the game and he and Frenzy were ace at it. 

Rookies like Bumblebee found themselves all too often on the raw ends. Because Kaon chomped on mechs, chewed them up and spat them out. The laws of nature, as it were. 

Except a decaorn later, he and Frenzy were cruising for some new clientele when there was a commotion in the streets. Rumble would've ignored it but Frenzy never could keep his curiosity for himself. He pushed his way to a clear view through the crowd. 

Some mech was laying into another one with the help of his buddies. They were cursing and kicking and pounding a little huddled frame. And Rumble thought that beneath the dirt and energon, maybe the mech was yellow. 

Looked like the fragger finally got what was coming to him. 

Frenzy, bored, moved on. If you'd seen one beatdown, you'd seen them all. And they'd had their fair share. It came with the territory. 

Rumble, though, he lingered, not sure why he did. He watched to the end, when the rapid flurry of blows faded to a final kick to a frame that no longer twitched. 

The crowd dispersed. The mechs went on their way, casually wiping energon from fists and feet. They laughed to themselves and left the crumpled mess behind. 

“Come on, bro. Stop staring at the scrap,” Frenzy said, tugging on his arm. 

Rumble couldn't. Instead, he got closer. The mech was still alive, wheezing wet ventilations. He stirred, scraping metal on metal, a pained noise emerging from his vocalizer. One blue optic flickered weakly. There was, briefly, recognition. Then realization. 

And finally, resignation. 

Rumble knew that look. He'd been there, had felt that despair. He'd crawled out of it and dragged Frenzy with him. But he knew that feeling of worthlessness. 

He crouched next to the broken mech and he said, “they throw you away, too?” 

A rattling cough splattered energon on Rumble's pede. It was answer enough. 

“Bro?” 

Rumble figured he'd already known what he was going to do when he didn't walk away at first sight. 

“Help me,” he said. They weren't far from home. 

“Why?” 

Because no one had helped them. These things happened, here in Kaon. Mechs died more than they lived. And you just stepped over the empties and kept going. 

“Because I said so,” Rumble said and despite his efforts, he could not move Bumblebee without causing some pain. 

Frenzy ex-vented the huff of the maligned. “Okay, but you have to clean up after him and feed him. He's not my pet.” 

Rumble ignored his twin. He'd gotten good at that. He'd had plenty of practice. 

They got him home. It took some finagling and more credits than Rumble wanted to spend, but they got him there. He was in stasis by then and Rumble did what he could. He'd gotten pretty good at that, too. 

Bumblebee's injuries spoke of a lifetime of ills, scars, and dents -- a match to what Rumble and Frenzy carried. But the gashes on his chest plating? The scraped paint and signs of forced entry? The dents on his thigh, on the panel Rumble was careful to skirt?

Those made Rumble shudder and exchange a look with his brother. They'd escaped that pain so far. They'd been lucky. 

It was a decaorn before Bumblebee woke up, disoriented and afraid. Rumble came home only to be attacked in his own apartment, though he'd been more startled than anything. 

Bumblebee was weak, running on fumes. A sparkling could have subdued him. Rumble might have been less gentle than he should have. He'd taken a databook to the helm, slag it. 

Lucky it hadn't been Frenzy. He tended to shoot first and throw out the scraps later. 

Calming Bumblebee down was an exercise in patience Rumble didn't know he had. It took offers of Frenzy's favorite energon gummies and an introduction before Bumblebee stopped trembling long enough to respond. 

Bumblebee ate like a trash compactor. He smelled like one, too. 

Rumble coaxed him into the washracks. Well, actually, he tossed Bee in there, locked the door, and told him he could come out when the solvent ran clean. 

It took two breem. 

But when Bumblebee did emerge, he sparkled and Rumble's mouth went a little dry. His internal temperature rose by several degrees. Trash from the street wasn't supposed to be so pretty. 

Rumble was so fragged. 

Bumblebee lingered in the doorway, tense and wary. “What do I owe you?” 

“Nothin'.” If he were the less honorable sort, Rumble could demand all kindsa things. But slag if he wasn't. He might live amid the dregs, but that didn't mean he had to be part of it. 

Blue optics dimmed. “Nothing's free,” he said and he pressed a hand to his chestplate, dragging a single finger down the dented seam, and toward his pelvic array. 

Rumble was on his feet and across the floor before he thought twice. He all but slapped Bumblebee's hand. 

“Not that,” he hissed. “Don't want anything and especially not that.” 

Well, not like this anyway. 

Bumblebee looked at him and then slid along the wall, toward the door. “Then thanks, I guess. I owe you one.” 

“You actually got somewhere to go?”

“Figured I've worn out my welcome here.” 

And that was when Frenzy sauntered through the door, throwing his hands into the air with a whoop of success. 

“Bro, you aren't gonna believe what I – oh. Your pet's awake.” 

“He's not my pet!” Rumble argued. 

“I was just leaving,” Bumblebee mumbled. 

“So soon? But we was just starting to have fun.” Frenzy grinned and threw an arm over Bee's shoulder. 

Rumble folded his arms. “He's been in stasis up until now.” 

Frenzy winked an optic. “My point exactly.” He poked Bumblebee in the chest. “Come on. It's a scary city out there. You should stick around for awhile.” 

Rumble's jaw dropped. How did Frenzy go from disinterest to fascination?

“You want me to stay?” 

“Well, you aren't doing too good on your own,” Rumble said, “and we've got the room.” 

“But why?” 

Rumble shrugged and it was Frenzy who offered an answer. 

“Because you are what we were only wouldn't no one help us. Time to break the cycle, yeah?” 

Bumblebee looked between the two of them and then down at himself. 

And he smiled. “Sure. Why not? Thanks.” 

“No problem, goldie. We'll show you the ropes. And Rumble can have his pet.” 

“He's not a pet!” 

Frenzy laughed. 

And so it was that Bumblebee came to live with them. 

Though that was only the start of the story.


	2. Paint

“Being a spy isn't about being invisible,” Rumble said to his captive audience, pacing back and forth across their shared space. “It's about being unnoticed. That's why it don't matter what your paint job is, it matters how you act.” 

He gave a pointed look to the haphazard attempt to cover yellow paint with black which had the opposite effect Bumblebee was going for. 

Bumblebee ducked his helm and rubbed the back of it. There's an awkward smear of black on his cheek ridge and Rumble had the urge to wipe it away with the pad of his thumb. 

Frenzy snickered. He must have caught that stray thought. 

“You said I stood out too much,” Bumblebee argued. 

“Because you act like you don't belong, not because you're yellow!” Rumble retorted and threw his hands into the air. “And now this!” He flicked his fingers at the yellow-black mess. “This is worse!” 

Frenzy cackled, throwing himself to the floor as though he couldn't contain his amusement. 

Not helping, bro. 

Bumblebee reared his helm back, indignant. “It comes off.” 

“That's not the point!” Rumble turned and booted Frenzy in the aft, just enough to get his attention without leaving a mark. “And you shut up. You're not helping.” 

Frenzy rolled away from him with all the spastic grace that had become his trademark. “I told ya it wasn't easy to have a pet. Now look at the mess he's made.” 

“I'm not a pet!” 

Kind of hard to believe considering he'd tracked in drips of black paint, Rumble realized. He palmed his face and shook his helm. 

Trying to teach Bumblebee the rules of the trade had been a good idea. But he had to remember to keep their new protege reined in. Otherwise he'd go off following whatever fool idea crossed his mind. 

“Aw, it's okay, Bee.” Frenzy patted Bumblebee on the shoulder in fake sympathy. “Rumble's just made 'cause he thinks you're prettier when you're yellow.” 

Rumble growled. “Don't you have some data you're supposed to be uploading?” 

Frenzy winked half his visor at Bee. “And he's jealous, too.” 

Rumble took a step forward and Frenzy twisted on a heelstrut, dancing backward. 

“Oh, I think I have work to do,” Frenzy declared with a laugh. “Guess I better get on that.” 

Fragging...

Sometimes, having a brother was nothing more than a double-handful of irritation. Rumble shook his helm and redirected his attention to Bumblebee. He flicked his hands at their new protege. 

“Go. Washracks. Now.” 

Bumblebee arched an orbital ridge. “What if I like the black?” 

“You don't,” Rumble said flatly, and he ignored the way Bumblebee was grinning at him. Damn Frenzy's influence! 

Bee's smirk widened. “Maybe I'll get stripes instead.” 

Rumble stomped a pede. “No stripes. No dots. No black. Just... wash it off.” He shooed Bumblebee with more frantic flicks. 

Bumblebee had the gall to laugh at him all the way into the tiny racks they shared. And then Frenzy popped his helm out of the computer room. 

“He might need help reaching his back, bro,” he said. 

Rumble threw a pillow at him but the fragger ducked and it sailed harmlessly into the smaller of the two berth rooms. 

These two were going to drive him crazy.


	3. Goodies

Rumble couldn't stop staring and judging by the way Frenzy kept snickering at him, his brother knew it, too.   
  
Rumble tossed his brother a sour look, but inevitably, his optics wandered back toward Bumblebee who was picking his way through a box of energon goodies in a positively obscene fashion.   
  
He nibbled at them. And sucked out the fillings. And smacked his lips noisily. And then lapped his fingers clean. And licked his lips.   
  
Only to select another goodie from the box and start the process all over again.   
  
“You gonna eat that?” Bumblebee asked, blue optics bright and innocent.   
  
Rumble blinked. “Huh?”   
  
Frenzy fell over in his chair and lay on the floor, laughing his aft off.   
  
“You've been holding it since we first opened the box,” Bumblebee pointed out with a shrug. He peered back into the box, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as his optics roamed the selection.   
  
Rumble stared down at his hand. Oh. Yeah. He should probably eat this, right? After all, the box of goodies was supposed to be a reward for all three of them. A special treat because they'd not only come out in the black in their finances, but Bumblebee had successfully completed his first theft.   
  
But... if Rumble ate it then Bumblebee couldn't and that... that would probably be a tragedy.   
  
“I'm not really a fan of these,” Rumble said and he tossed it toward Bumblebee, whose skills had improved enough he caught it without looking. “Enjoy?”   
  
Bumblebee smirked and flipped it up into his mouth. “I intend to. More for me then.” His optics flicked to Frenzy, whose laughter had devolved to gasps and clicks of his fans. Bumblebee didn't even look surprised.   
  
He'd learned, by now, that sometimes you just had to smile and nod when it came to Frenzy.   
  
“I'm going to eat them all if you don't get up off the floor,” Bumblebee announced, nudging Frenzy with the tip of his pede.   
  
Frenzy giggled and flopped over on his side, facing the both of them. “Well,” he said. “I'd hate to ruin Rumble's fun. Have 'em all, Bee.”   
  
“Shut up!” Rumble hissed and he grabbed the nearest object, tossing a mesh pillow at his loudmouthed twin.   
  
Frenzy didn't bother to duck.   
  
“Thanks,” Bumblebee chirped and selected one of the sweeter ones.   
  
Like all the others before it, he nibbled off the top, sucked out the filling, and licked the insides clean. Only then did he eat the rest. And oh no, he dribbled a little on his fingers. Better take care of that.   
  
Rumble's fans clicked on.   
  
Frenzy cackled.   
  
Rumble was pretty sure Bumblebee was doing this on purpose.   
  
And Rumble was damn sure he didn't want Bumblebee to stop.


	4. Higher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumble is a tease. Bumblebee whines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> post-Oubliette and post-Salvage, spoiler-free, no need to read either to understand

Bumblebee shivered as Rumble’s mouth traced a searing path up Bumblebee’s backstrut, leaving fluttery kisses in his wake. Every brush of his lips was a static shock to Bumblebee’s sensory net. 

He moaned into the berth, his frame aching with need and charge spilling from beneath his armor. His dermal net was eager, sensitivity heightened by each delicate press of Rumble’s mouth. 

Blue hands slid into Bumblebee’s seams and Bee flexed his armor, allowing easier access. Rumble chuckled against the back of his shoulder. 

“You hot already, Bee?” 

“Of course I am! You’ve been teasing me all night.” 

Rumble’s denta scraped at the back of his neck and Bumblebee moaned. 

“Ain’t teasin’,” Rumble countered. “Just takin’ my time. Learnin’ all the new bits of ya.” 

Bumblebee fisted the berth cover. His cooling fans rattled as heat pumped through his lines. “I won’t complain if you feel like hurrying up,” he offered. 

Rumble nibbled at his neck cables, glossa flicking against them. He pinched a main line between his denta with steadily increasing pressure. 

Bumblebee keened, arousal slamming into him. He tilted his helm, silently begging for more. 

Rumble chuckled and bit down harder, enough to leave a dent behind and sending another zip of charge down Bumblebee’s backstrut. 

“Knew you’d like that,” Rumble purred. 

“Course I do! So you better not stop!” Bumblebee gasped. Need knotted tighter in his abdomen. 

“Never,” Rumble murmured and his mouth descended again, more denta than gloss, and the perfect pressure to drive Bumblebee higher.


	5. Cleaning Service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bumblebee gets more than a little dirty. Rumble is happy to help.

“What in the universe possessed you to go mudding with Hound?”

Bumblebee chuckled. “I thought it would be fun,” he said as the solvent pattered down over his frame, sluicing bits of mud, stone, and grass from his seams. Honestly, you could hardly tell he was yellow right now.

“Hah!” Rumble’s hands scrubbed over his back, attacking the mud as though it offended him.

Probably got that from Soundwave. Bee didn’t remember Rumble being so conscientious before.

“Or maybe I just wanted to entice you into helping me get clean.” Bumblebee wriggled his aft for emphasis.

“Is that right?” Rumble pressed against him from behind, his arms encircling Bee as he slid his soapy hands around Bumblebee’s chassis. One hand dipped down to cup his heated array. “You could’ve just asked, yanno.”

Bumblebee braced his hands on the wall as he freed his spike with a soft sigh, pressurizing directly into Rumble’s grip. “Funner this way,” he murmured as Rumble squeezed him. He shivered.

Rumble rubbed against his aft, the heat of his groin tangible. “Then lucky for you I _like_ putting my hands all over ya.”

“I thought you might.” Bumblebee rolled his hips, his spike sliding easily in Rumble’s soapy grip. “Mmm. Harder.”

“Ask me something hard,” Rumble murmured and tightened his grip, his denta grazing across the back of Bumblebee’s shoulder.

He shuddered, arching closer to Rumble, as the solvent continued to rain down, washing away the mess.   
  



End file.
